


A House of Monsters

by whenilearnedtofly



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Character Study, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Gaslighting, Hallucinations, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, this is all heavily implied btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenilearnedtofly/pseuds/whenilearnedtofly
Summary: A collection of stories, one from the point of view of each member of the Gleeful House.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. 6:32 AM

5:15 AM: Servants Quarters.  
William wakes for the day. A year ago he would have allowed himself to wish for a moment that this was not his fate but for now, he simply rises from the stiff, thin mattress. He changes into one of his few pairs of slacks and button-downs before approaching the modest vanity the room contains. He gingerly removes the bandage covering the right side of his face before he carefully pours out water from the jug he filled the night before into the basin and splashes it on his painfully mortal face. He looks up into the mirror, the ever-fresh wound from the punishment that took his eye stares back, mocking him. He picks up the old and ragged cloth that rests to the side of the basin and uses it to clean the area in some small way. It will not heal, but it has and will become infected.

5:45 AM: Kitchen  
William stands before a stove, 3 pans popping with the precisely calculated amount of grease required to cook each item. He cooks all 3 simultaneously, without flaw. It might come off as easy if not for the tension and fear in being’s form. Breakfast was always a dangerous meal.

6:15 AM: Study  
William knocks exactly twice before the call to enter is heard. He does not know when his master sleeps or wakes, only when he is called to mime the passage of time in this place with no end. He opens the door and brings in the silver tray, the food concealed by a matching silver lid. He moves as if he were gliding rather than walking as to spill a drop of the accompanying tea would be a crime most egregious. A crime he does not intend to pay for if he does not have to.

6:25 AM: Nursery  
William arrives at the wing claimed by the young lord and lady of the house. Here he does not knock to enter but quietly rolls the carefully maintained cart into the small but refined breakfast room. He sets out each tray with a practiced motion, again careful not to spill or displace. He rings the bell and makes haste to leave, to be found when they exit their chambers is an unnecessary risk.

6:30 AM: Basement  
William rolls the cart into the dimly lit concrete halls. It is likely at work in one of the labs and so he goes searching. It is found in lab two. William leaves the basement.

6:40 AM: Study  
William again knocks exactly twice before being called to enter. He silently moves to retrieve the dishes to return to the kitchen with.

6:42 AM: Study  
William’s master orders him to return upon the dishes being washed. He has no indication that he has underperformed perfection but he knows better than to assume that means that he hasn't. William chooses not to panic. 

6:48 AM: Kitchen  
William questions if he ought to retrieve the young lord and lady’s dishes as well or return to his master beforehand. He opts to, hoping it is not the incorrect choice.

6:53 AM: Nursery  
It was the incorrect choice. The children are not done eating.

7:18 AM: Study  
William returns to the study, knocking twice, hearing the call, and entering. He is late. This is unsatisfactory. If he had underperformed before he is not informed, that does not mean he did not. His master informs him of additional tasks for the day. If these were the originally intended reason for his return or are being added on due to his tardiness, he is not informed. He does not have enough time for the additional tasks.

7:28 AM: Foyer  
William sweeps the dark hardwood floor. He will have to mop it as well. He has less than 8 hours before he must prepare the show. 

7:46 AM: Foyer  
William spent 5 minutes longer looking for the mop than he should have, he believes the young lady moved it. He has less than 8 hours before he must prepare the show. 

8:23 AM: Foyer  
William scrubs the floor till it shines. This would be satisfactory if he was not behind. He has less than 7 hours before he must prepare the show.

8:31 AM: Nursery  
William hesitates for a moment too long in front of the wing door. The children should be done eating and attending to their studies. William knows this. He does not wish to risk an encounter and waste time he does not have. He has less than 7 hours before he must prepare the show.

8:39 AM: Kitchen  
William did not encounter the young lord or lady. He finishes washing the dishes. He is pleased, he is still behind but he is making time back. He has less than 7 hours before he must prepare the show.

8:44 AM: Kitchen  
William begins to sweep the kitchen. Perhaps he can complete this quickly. He has less than 7 hours before he must prepare the show.

8:57 AM: Kitchen  
William scalds the back of his hand in his attempt to rush the mopping. Hopefully, this will not delay him too much. He does not have time to bandage it. He has less than 7 hours before he must prepare the show.

9:28 AM: Kitchen  
William finishes cleaning the kitchen. His hand throbs but he does what he can to ignore it, at least it is not his palm. He has less than 6 hours before he must prepare the show.

9:31 AM: Dining Room  
William begins to sweep the dining room. He does so as quickly as he can but he will not rush the mopping again. Injury only delays. He has less than 6 hours before he must prepare the show.

10:11 AM: Dining Room  
The mopping is complete and the hardwood shines. He collects the silver to polish. It has not yet tarnished but that does not matter. He has less than 5 hours before he must prepare the show.

10:29 AM: Foyer  
William collects the vacuum and begins this task in the foyer. He believes he may have enough time. He has less than 5 hours before he must prepare the show.

11:43 AM: Smoking Lounge  
William did not account for the extra work required for the carpet in the smoking lounge. He does not have enough time. He has less than 4 hours before he must prepare the show.

11:46 AM: Master Suite  
William enters the master’s room. It appears undisturbed. It is always undisturbed. He remakes the made bed. He vacuums the untouched floors. He scrubs the shining master bathroom. He does not have enough time. He has less than 4 hours before he must prepare the show.

12:46 PM: Kitchen  
William begins preparing lunch. He has started late. He has less than 3 hours before he must prepare the show.

1:16 PM: Study  
William knocks twice, rapidly. He is late. He is called to enter. He is late. He serves his master his lunch. He is late. He is told to clean the nursery. He does not have enough time. He has less than 2 hours before he must prepare the show.

1:26 PM: Nursery  
William enters the children’s wing. He moves silently to the breakfast room. The children are not yet there. He sets out the food. He rings the bell. He is caught by the young lord. He does not have enough time. He has less than 2 hours before he must prepare the show.

1:34 PM: Basement  
William enters the basement. He knocks on the door to the second lab. It is in there. He delivers its lunch.

1:41 PM: Study  
William knocks twice. He is called to enter. He sweeps the room in silence. He collects his master’s dishes. He does not have enough time. He has less than 2 hours before he must prepare the show.

1:51 PM: Nursery  
William silently enters the nursery. He retrieves the dishes without incident. He does not have enough time. He has less than 2 hours before he must prepare the show.

2:13 PM: Library  
William collects the volumes off the shelves and returns them. He does not have enough time to verify the placement of the books currently on the shelves. He has an hour before he must prepare the show. He has not completed his tasks.

3:00 PM: The Tent  
William begins to prepare the show. He moves the mechanisms of the performance into position. The show must be without flaw.

4:00 PM: The Tent  
William rolls back the curtain. The show begins.

4:45 PM: The Tent  
William closes the curtains as the show ends. He resets the mechanisms of the performance. The show must be without flaw.

5:15 PM: The Tent  
William rolls back the curtain. The show begins.

6:00 PM: The Tent  
William closes the curtains as the show ends. He returns the mechanisms of the performance to their place in storage. The show has been without flaw. William is hopeful.

7:00 PM: Kitchen  
William begins dinner for the members of the household. He is careful to achieve perfection. Perhaps if everything is perfect his errors earlier will not reap consequences that would be considered dire.

8:15 PM: Dining Room  
William serves the members of the household dinner. The dinner is perfect.

8:30 PM: Basement  
William descends into the basement and checks the second lab. It is there. He silently delivers it's dinner. It does not realize he is there.

9:15 PM: Kitchen  
William is ordered to attend the study once the kitchen and plate the young lady smashed are cleaned. He moves as quickly as he can, hoping to please the master of the house.

9:45 PM: Study  
The master of the house is not pleased. William did not complete his tasks. 

12:15 AM: Servant’s Quarters  
William hobbles into the servant’s quarters, leaning against the wall for support as he goes. Once inside, he pulls out a moderately sized bucket from under the vanity that holds a washing board. He takes the bucket out through a side door to a spigot on the back of the house and fills it with water. With this water, he fills the pitcher from the morning. He then strips his clothes and the bandage over his eye and drops them onto the floor. He slips inside a wooden cubicle to the side of the room with the jug of water he just filled and some soap. He scrubs down his exhausted form before pouring the water over himself to rinse off. Once he is finished bathing he dresses in an old nightshirt. He desperately wishes to sleep but he cannot yet. He refills the jug and places it inside the basin at the vanity. He dumps what is left of the water in the bucket and returns it to its place. He sets aside the dirty clothes, he will wash them tomorrow. He pulls out a new set of bandages from the vanity drawer and covers his eye once again. 

1:15 AM: Servants Quarters  
William falls asleep. He will have to complete his failed tasks tomorrow.


	2. The Bordering Wood

My name is Mason Gleeful, and one day I’m going to rule the world. A big claim for a 14-year-old, I know, but it's simply the truth. Now I know that you are dying to know how I accomplish such a feat, I mean, I am just a darling southern boy with thousands of adoring fans and an inheritance in the hundred-millions but we all know that these days that doesn’t exactly guarantee much. Honestly, though? The plan is relatively simple. Step one, trick my great uncle Stanford into teaching me all he knows. Step two, overthrow him. Step three, take his demon and the power that comes with for my own. Step four, actually use said demon and power in an effective way to accomplish something. And finally, step five, world domination.  
However, it is a plan for the long game and in the meantime, I need to amass as much power as possible without alerting my great uncle to my status as a threat. I do this when I can, researching magic in my spare time and mastering what I already know when in lessons with my great uncle.

  
Generally, my day starts far before the sun is up. My great uncle refuses to even train me unless my general studies for the day are completed to perfection. I usually get up around 5 am or so to do this work so that I have it done by the time that William comes to the North Wing to deliver breakfast. I’m not quite sure when Stanford actually puts the work into the folders in the breakfast room for me and Mabel… maybe a teleportation spell? I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard him come into the room… either way, I get up early to get that done and return the completed work to Stanford after breakfast. Frustratingly today, Mabel had to go and make breakfast take so much longer by actually trying to talk with William before whatever crazed part of her is in control most of the time decided to just mutilate the demon. I also enjoy seeing what limits I can push the pathetic creature to but I at least have the decency to do it on my own time and not confuse it in the process.  
Either way, eventually that was over and I had finished eating, so I took my completed studies toward the study. I could tell William was in there so I had to wait until it left. It seemed tense for whatever reason but that’s pretty par for the course with it. However, I didn’t want to risk catching my great uncle after he just got done telling off his demon since if I do that he tends to be much less likely to actually teach me anything. So I wait and when I think enough time has passed I knock and go in. The knock is very important here because if I just go in he’ll think I don’t respect him or something like that and then he’ll get all huffy or whatever so I make sure to knock first. He calls for me to enter. He always knows it’s me but hasn’t told me how yet. One day I will find out.

  
I get approval for my work. Personally, I don’t think it's necessary as I haven’t made a mistake in months and that was on nuclear physics which Stanford had jumped over the basics so that’s hardly my fault. Either way, after an agonizingly long amount of time he decides that I have done well enough for his standards. At this, he hands me a book and tells me to study it. I have already read this book, I have actually read this book twice. I don’t need to know any more astrological convergences, I can already read the stars! I don’t understand why he does this! Just actually teach me something useful, old man!

  
I take the book with me and descend into the library, leaving it on a table. If Stanford won’t, I’ll teach myself something useful. There isn’t much in here that I haven’t already read, at least as far as magic goes. However, I have been taking an interest in ancient cultures and their mythical creatures and so I head over to where I had gotten the Prose Edda and pulled its companion, the Poetry Edda from the shelves. The ancient mythical gods are so fascinating to me, even if they have a tendency toward ‘partying’ that I personally don’t understand. Just… family is always a complicated thing for them, it feels somewhat familiar…

  
Suddenly, hours have flown by and I realize William will have just delivered lunch. I put the book on the table next to where I sat and scale the circle staircase toward the second level of the library, exiting through the door that opens onto the balcony over the great hall. As I enter the North Wing I am faced with Will, about to leave. Strange, he is usually gone by now. He must be running behind. I do not stop him, as there is no reason to, and after he realizes I have nothing to say to him he practically flees the room, probably trying to escape before… Mabel. And there she is. My darling sister slams the door open and practically yells in my ear. It’s about something probably inane and pointless to consider. At this point, I do what I can just to tune out most of what she says as it’s never terribly salient or interesting and if I actually entertain her she’ll try to trap me in the conversation, more than once she has literally. And so I ignore her, it’s better this way.

  
I head back to the library after lunch and again pick up the Poetry Edda but soon I finish. As enlightening as learning about myths is, I crave the chance to actually learn some magic I can do something with. And, yes, Stanford has taught me some practical things but most of it feels like party tricks that he’s using to distract me from actual magic. It’s showy lights and dazzling effects but nothing with real power behind it.

  
Frustrated I set down the book before glancing up at the study door. Stanford is probably still in there considering that I came here right after lunch and hadn’t seen him come in. Quietly I get up and begin to trail the borders of the room, looking for something to be off. I’ve known for a while that there is something hidden in the library, and considering that Stanford has to have more powerful magical texts somewhere I figure that this is the most logical option. However, I’ve been over this library at least half a dozen times and I’m still not sure where it is.

  
The time passes and suddenly William enters the library. He does not see me. I am fairly certain and I slip out unnoticed. I do not know how much of a spy for my great uncle William is and I don’t need my uncle knowing my interest in whatever he has hidden in the library. Out in the great hall now I look around, the symbols of my great uncle’s wealth and power surround me and serve to fuel my ever-present desire, no my need, to surpass the man. But this indignation does not resolve my restlessness and I exit the manor onto the grand back porch. Taking in the sight of the grounds fills me with a certain peace. However, the artful placement and design of the various plants into a beautiful garden are not what brings me said peace, but the woods at the borders of the property. I check the time before taking the long walk to the edge of the property, I have enough for a short walk before the show.

  
The woods are not traditionally peaceful, they do not grow in the carefully regimented rows of the gardens and they do not move for their ‘betters’. They are old, they are wild, they are dangerous, and they are powerful. Stanford may ‘own’ the land that their roots entangle and that their animals inhabit, but I know that he cannot truly own these woods. The time flies and soon I have to head back up toward the manor to prepare for the show but spending time among the ancient redwoods always strengthens my resolve. I will become more powerful than him and I will defeat him and I will finally get the respect I deserve no matter what I have to do to get there and no matter how long it takes. My name is Mason Gleeful and I will rule the world.


	3. Diary Entry ██\██\████

██\██\████

Morning Mom! 

So today’s breakfast was super duuuper delicioussss and even fun! I had pancakes with bacon and sunny side up eggs and some fresh fruit! Plus that stupid “demon” Grunkle Stanford (dont tell him I called him that for some reason came into the breakfast room while me and big dipper head were still eating. And like mason is soooo boring so when Will came in I couldnt help but have a little fun u know? I had wanted to make him hang out with me but he said something about needing to get back to Stanford or something lame like that. So I decided that since he can’t hang out I’d cut him a deal. I cut off his middle fingers (I needed to complete my collection ♡)! Also I know what youre gonna say dont worry they grow back by the next day~ plus I was nice today and let him use the bandages in the bathroom so that totally balances out that karma or whatever.

Okay so, I know Im supposed to go do that school work or whatever that Stanford leaves in the play room for us and that me going to mess around in the ballroom is just gonna get me yelled at later but I really just dont feel like figuring out quadratics or whatever the math is right now and if I try to ask Stanford for help he just tells me to leave him alone and if I mention to Mason that I dont get it hell call me stupid again. So if I have to chose between getting made fun of and getting yelled at or just getting yelled I think you see the obvious answer. Plus why do I even need school anyway Im already rich thanks to you and dad even if Stanford wont let me and Mason get to the money till were adults for whatever reason and Im like super great at ballet and gymnastics and stuff so I really dont get why Stanford makes us do school work. I know mason does it because hes a big nerd and likes it or whatever but I dont see why I have to do it.

Hey mom why did Mason turn into such a fucking asshole? Like I get it youre so smart and youre so busy because Stanford actually gives a shit about you and tells you how math and magic work big fucking deal. I'm gonna go find Will maybe I can make him join me for a tea party? That would be fun!

So I dont know where Will is, so that idea is a bust. But!! I finally managed to do a back stalder today!!! I know you don’t know what that is lol. Okay so basically it's on the bars (this is gymnastics btw not ballet) and you basically swing up into a handstand and then swing back the other way into another handstand,. Kinda. I wish I could show you it mom it looks so cool and I taught it to myself! I'm just glad that we actually have wifi in the manor so I could use youtube to figure it out. But the show is starting soon!! I’ll tell you if anything cool happens after it's over.

Oooooooohhhhhh my godddddddddd!!!!!! MOM!! I think Im in love mom. Okay okay, back up Mabel, mom can't just read ur mind you have to explain what happened. Okay, so. I’m on stage and me and mason just finished this new final act thing that looked so super duper cool and like I practiced that move for weeks to get it right and it was just perfect!! But so after the show me and mason are greeting the fans like we do because it's always good to keep the fans happy and this absolutely adorable guy came up to the autograph line with a picture of me. And like that's not too strange lots of cute guys want an autograph of me because like duh, Im great. But this cutie tells me that like he thinks that Im really cool and then he asked how I keep my hair perfect during the show even though it's in a ponytail and not a bun and like normally guys dont think about things like that? Usually theyre just like “oh my god Mabel youre so hot and cool” and like that's fun and all but they usually just want me to like prove to their friends that theyre cool and like that's boring and they dont actually care about who I am or what I want, and they can be fun to mess with. Like one time I scared this dumb kid so much after he was rude to me that I made him pee his pants and that was so funny. Oops off track. But this guy, his name is Gideon, he like, likes the things I like and actually listens to me, you know? We got to talk for a little bit after the crowd died down and hes just so funny and like on my god is he cute. Im gonna see if I can sneak out of the house and spend some time with him later this week. 

Okay so dinner was the same as always, like super boring. Stanford lecturing? Check. Mason complaining that he wants to learn some fancy magic? Check. Me getting ignored until I pretend to accidentally smash my plate? Triple check boys~ god I hate it here. I wanna sneak out and hang out with Gideon but if Stanford finds out I snuck out at night hell probably like kill the kid or something like that and like I at least wanna be able to keep this one for like, a month you know? But Im just gonna go mess around in the ball room or something. Or maybe see if theres anything in the teeny tiny fiction part of the library that looks kinda intresting.

I miss you,

Your favorite daughter and extra favorite child

Mabel


	4. The Rat

Fiddleford carefully measured the silvery liquid agent, tapping the syringe to ensure no air bubbles were contained in the glass instrument before eyeing the caged animal that he’d pulled out for testing this particular formula. He reached his gloved hand into the enclosure and grasped the rodent without fanfare. The creature writhed in his hand as he tightened his grip around its body and flipped it around, exposing its stomach. He pressed the needle against the skin until it broke through and then deposited the contents into its veins. Within seconds the rat went limp and Fiddleford muttered a half curse under his breath before removing the needle and dropping the rat into a metal box at the side of the worktable, he would have to take it to the incinerator later, the box was filling up again. 

Fiddleford wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong, he had gotten this formula right weeks ago but in his excitement to show his progress to Stanford, he hadn’t written it down. Then, to make things worse, the blasted rat had run off somewhere. The damned thing kept appearing too, scurrying around the walls and just out of Fiddleford’s grasp. He knew it was taunting him with the knowledge that his formula had worked but he didn’t have anything to prove that to Stanford, and he needed to show Stanford that he was still useful to him.

A blurred shape dashed in the corner of his vision and his head snapped toward it. It was that rat, it had to be. He lunged at the shape but it slipped through his fingers, leaving him with nothing but filth and ash on his hands. The blasted thing had escaped him again and the traps he set up weren’t catching it. He curses the creature under his breath and tries to wipe his filthy hand clean on his already soiled lab coat. The attempt doesn’t quite work but it’s better than nothing.

There’s no use trying to catch the rat when it’s disappeared somewhere like that so he simply returns to the table and tries to study his notes. He knows the secret had to be here somewhere, he’d done this before and he can do it again. Even if that escaped mongrel keeps doing it’s best to distract him. It knows that he doesn’t have time for its game of cat and mouse, that he needs to get this all together before Stanford decides that this is the end of the line and cuts him off. It doesn’t matter that Stanford hasn’t actually said that he’d do such a thing, Fiddleford has worked alongside the man for long enough to be able to see the signs. If he just proves that he’s useful, he’ll be able to show Stanford that he is right to keep him around. 

He shakes his head and presses his fingers up against his temples, trying to push back the compulsive and anxious thoughts. He needs to focus and thinking about Stanford isn’t going to help in that regard. He forces himself to look over a particular note about the agent and his eyes go wide as he has a realization. He stands up from the desk, the speed of his action throwing back his chair, but with inspiration surging in his veins he doesn’t even notice. He scurries over to the old and half-broken fume hood and slides onto the worn wooden stool. His hand leaps forward and pulls a jar filled with a thick clear liquid. Taking a pipet he pulls out a few drops of it and deposits exactly 3 milliliters into the vial he’d pulled the agent from earlier. The color of the formula quickly changes from a near silvery grey into a dark greenish-blue. He caps the vial and picks it up, shaking it frantically. This is it, he can feel it. This is the solution that will fix everything. He’ll test it on one of the rats and this time it won’t escape and he’ll show it to Stanford and Stanford will love it and Stanford will see how useful he is and Stanford will-

In his vigor, the vial slips from his gloved fingers and smashes against the concrete. Fiddleford stands in shock for a few moments, watching the blue-green liquid slowly try to collect together. He just ruined it, his whole chance to prove that he had something to offer and it was just gone. The moment of shocked horror is beaten out a few seconds later by desperation as he drops to the floor, hopelessly grasping at the liquid and glass as he tries to save the lost cause of a project. In the process his gloves rip and hands catch on the glass, the ruined formula finding now easy access to the tormented man. However, the physical pain manages to pull him from his state and Fiddleford realizes that he didn’t even get the chance to test if this formula wouldn’t kill him. He scrambles to his feet and runs over to the lab sink, turning on the cold water and tearing off the gloves before submerging his hands in the water. Why did he do that? God, he’s such an idiot no wonder Stanford is going to get rid of him. He always does the stupidest thing and he doesn’t even have anything to show for it these days.

There’s a knock at the door and the demon comes in, food in hand. Fiddleford goes stiff for a moment before continuing to wash his hands, intentionally trying to hide his discomfort. That interloper is the cause of his lower status within the house; he is sure of it and he sees no need to further endanger his current position by revealing his fragile state to it. It sets the food down at the table by the door and then promptly leaves, as it always does. Fiddleford knows it’s because that thing knows that it did this to him and it’s too much of a coward to face the consequences of its actions.

He looks down at his scratched and slightly bleeding hands and all in a moment his vengeful rage at the demon deflates. Of course, he still blames that thing but what good does that do? He’s still falling apart in this basement, he still hasn’t been able to show anything useful to Stanford in months, and he still hasn’t done anything truly impressive in over a year. The demon might be the reason he doesn’t have a place in the house but Fiddleford knows that it didn’t turn him into the bumbling mess he is now. He only has himself to blame for that.

He glances over at the food, he doesn’t like eating anything that thing creates but he knows that if Stanford catches him skipping meals again he’ll be upset. So, Fiddleford picks up the tray, looking over the eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and quietly admits to himself that it does look good. He takes it to his bedroom, not that he’s there much other than to eat, and quietly eats for a little, forcing himself to calm down. It’s his haste that destroys his work, he just needs to slow down a little, take a breath, and calm his nerves… but that doesn’t stop the anxiety. The gnawing sense deep within him that tells him that if he doesn’t actually pull something together and soon Stanford is going to realize that he’s useless and get rid of him and Fiddleford knows that that voice is right. The panic it causes might be part of the problem but he should be panicked, he is losing everything that he ever worked for, and even worse, he’s losing the things that make him who he is. 

Soon he has finished the food and he leaves the tray on the small table next to the staff elevator, the demon will collect it the next time it comes down. Fiddleford takes a moment to soothe any nerves of his before stepping into the lab again, determined to get that formula back to where it was.

Several hours pass by and lunch comes and goes. Fiddleford is getting close to getting the formula back to where it had been that morning which was good considering that Stanford would descend into the basement to check on his progress soon. He didn’t quite have much to show but he had something at the very least. 

During a moment where Fiddleford was particularly engrossed in measuring a particular amount of one of the components, Stanford stepped into the lab. The door was silent as it swung open and shut but the unmistakable sound of Stanford's steps on the cold concrete floor caught Fiddleford’s attention instantly. He rushed to finish his measurements before practically launching himself off the stool and rushing up to the man he idolizes and stopping just short of embracing him. Fiddleford lifts his ever-present goggles to smile at the other man. His blue eyes are dazzling with affection and adoration. 

Stanford smiled at the scientist but Fiddleford could see the concern in his eyes. Stanford politely asked how the man was doing and Fiddleford lied. He always lied. He couldn’t let Stanford know how much of a mess he’d been lately and he couldn’t help but do what he could to bring Stanford as much joy and peace as possible. However, when Stanford asked of Fiddleford’s work, the scientist didn’t quite have the ability to fake satisfaction with his lack of results while apologizing about the aforementioned lack. He wanted to make sure that Stanford understood that he was sorry without pulling forth his spiraling doubts about his place in the manor and possibly even speaking them aloud. However, his careful toeing of this imaginary line was for nothing because Stanford spotted the pile of broken glass that Fiddleford had forgotten to clean up earlier. Stanford’s serene and kind expression quickly was replaced with frustration and restrained anger and Fiddleford’s heart dropped. Stanford wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know how Fiddleford could be so careless. Stanford wasn’t made of money and Fiddleford just wasted a whole formula just like that? And not only that but just left the mess there on the floor? 

However, Fiddleford couldn’t seem to focus on the other man’s words. The anger and frustration blended into a muffled sound that Fiddleford knew he should be listening to but he couldn’t get his eyes off the wall behind Stanford because there it was. The rat was staring him dead in the eyes and he knew that it was taunting him. If he moved to grab it it would run away and disappear like it always did and Stanford wouldn’t believe him that it was there. If he could just catch it, it would solve everything. That rat was the key to proving that he was useful and it was right there he just had to move fast enough he just had to catch it before it ran away and then he could prove to Stanford that he was worth all of this he could show Stanford that he had everything together he just had to lunge at the right moment be fast enough and grab it and everything would be okay he just had to reach out he could do it it's right there it's right there it's right there-

Fiddleford pushes Stanford to the side as he lunges to the ground, hands clutching at the now empty air as the rat vanishes into elsewhere in the lab. No. nonono. He was going to catch it. Where is it? It was right here he had it in his hands but it's gone and he pushed- he pushed Stanford. 

Fiddleford swings his head around only to see the door shut behind Stanford as he walks out and for a moment Fiddleford can’t even move, too shocked to be able to process what just happened. A minute later he touches his face to find that he is crying. Stanford is gone, and so is the rat, and Fiddleford is alone, again.


	5. Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanna let everyone know real quick that in this chapter Stanford is lying like, a lot. He is gaslighting the audience and if that's a potential trigger please be careful! this project has taken a lot of work but I'm super proud of it and glad for it to be finished!

Well, this has been quite the journey, hasn’t it? I'm sure by now you've had the chance to figure this whole thing out. Let me guess, “old man is generally a terrible human being who torments everyone around him for no actual reason”? How close was I? It’s kind of sad actually, to be so miss characterized by the very people I have devoted at least the last four years of my life, if not decades to… nonetheless, I’m sure you have no interest in hearing the rationale or ramblings of a tired old man whose family hates him. I’m sure you have far better things to do and much more interesting people to attend to. But… might I ask for a few minutes of your time? I promise not to take up too much and I’ll even throw in a cup of tea for your time. Good, it isn’t too hot, is it? Do you want any sugar or milk? Alright then, oh, of course, I’m always glad to abide. Hospitality is something I’ve always prided myself in. But I should probably get to explaining myself, shouldn’t I? I’ll go in the order you last heard from each member of my family, keep it straight that way. So I guess that means… Fiddleford first.

It’s hard to look at him these days… I knew that man in the prime of his life, he might not look it now but he was a genius. He far outshone any practical talent my academic-focused mind was ever capable of. But these days? I know he’s losing it, and what’s worse is that I know that nothing I seem to do helps. I try to give him work to do and he hurts himself, but if I ask him to take time off he goes on a huge spiral and thinks that I’m trying to find an excuse to get rid of him. I tried getting him some professional help but… let’s just say the woman had no interest in returning here and the hospital bills I had to pay to recompense her were a bit too high for me to be willing to try that again. I ask him to stay in the basement because it's the only way I know to limit his ability to hurt others but I am afraid that it comes at the cost of him often hurting himself. I would love to spend more time down there with him, give him the company I know he so desperately needs but I just don’t have the time to, not with the children and William and everything else in this house that I have to keep an eye on, I just don’t have time for it all and maybe that means that my old partner gets shafted occasionally but what else would you have me do?

And then there are the children, I feel it might be good to cover them both at once. I will admit, I never wanted children of my own. I was beyond content to remain a bachelor through my years but when I heard that my niece and nephew in law had died, leaving behind a pair of ten-year-old orphan twins, I couldn’t let them get swept up in the foster care system. They would have split the two of them up and I still remember the pain of losing contact with my own twin, I wouldn’t wish that upon those children, so I took them in. I know I have made mistakes but I am doing what I can for them. When Mabel came to me she already had that nasty violence streak and I would love to be able to encourage her to branch out and make friends but the last time I did that she maimed a child for not giving her the toy she wanted. You see what she does to William, it will recover from it, another child will not. And maybe I should spend more time with her but as much as I would love to I have to do all that I can to monitor Mason’s progress. You read his statement, you know what his ambitions are. He might be a child now but if I’m not careful that boy is either going to get himself killed running after fairy tales or actually going to get his hands on some real power and bury us all. So tell me, which would you rather me risk?

Finally… William. I will admit it is the hardest to explain to someone who does not know what that being was like before I bound it here. I know you imagine William Cipher and a kind and peaceful incarnation of a dream demon. You believe its captivity here is unjust and that I ought to release it upon the world. But all your understanding here is founded in some version of William that you have made up in your mind due to literal fiction you have read. If I were to release that thing upon the world who knows what damage it would cause. I only keep at as busy as I do because if I gave it the time to truly think it would have certainly found a way to wriggle it's way out of what bindings I can maintain in my old age and I can only hope that they will last past my death, lest we all fall prey to its whims. So, before you demand justice for the demon you know nothing of but it's captivity please consider why I have done what I have. 

I know that I am not the picturesque hero you might envision in my place and I will admit that I have made many mistakes in my life. However, I would invite you, as you take your leave from this house of monsters, to ask yourself what you would have done differently and then decide if you would judge me so harshly for what it is that I have done.


End file.
